Preface: The Clinton campaign did not sponsor this post. This is my opinion and mine alone. You are entitled to yours, so before you start throwing pitch forks at me, remember I said that.

A lot of people have been asking me why I’ve been so “politically charged” on social media lately. At first I was offended, but then realized, yep 96.7% of my social media content either has to do with cats or people who piss me off on my commute to and from work. Really no contesting that.

But yes, I have been rather “politically charged” lately. I mean how could you not be, especially if you have a vagina. And if you’re not, in the wonderful words of Kate McKinnon as Hillary Clinton, “bish, ya cray!”

I am so proud to be sitting here as a woman in 2016 with rights, and a career, and a platform like this blog to write whatever the fuck I want without fear of getting burned at the stake.

Could you imagine if this was the 1950s?! 29. Single. Childless. With a career?! I would have been considered the lonely spinster lady who should probably be given lithium and committed. “Don’t go near Old Lady Kate’s house, kids, I hear she has 40 cats and builds forts out of crackers,” they would say about my 29-year-old single ass.

Now it’s 2016 and we have a woman running for one of the most important jobs in ze world (every time I say “in the world” I have to talk like Celine Dion, sorry). But I don’t want you to think I’m voting for her just because of her anatomy or because “it’s time.”

There are so many reasons why I’m voting for her, and yes, some have to do with the fact that I believe as women, we can do anything men can do. And that it is a COMPLETE abomination that this is such a big deal that a “poor lil lady” is running for such a big job. GASP.

But most importantly, I’m voting for her because she is educated, smart, and has the experience to run this country. Bottom line.

I have zero interest in being her friend (although if she’s interested in grabbing some tea or cocktails and chatting, I’m always available, Hillary, I love you. Hi.). I don’t want to read her emails. And I don’t want to see her health records, because quite frankly, we could all drop dead at any minute, so it doesn’t fucking matter.

So you can understand how angry I get when people say things like, “she’s a bitch.” “I can’t relate to her.” “She’s cold.” “She’s shady.” Okay, we aren’t electing our next best friend, here. This isn’t enter to become Paris Hilton’s next BFF (Jesus Christ, remember that nightmare?).

I don’t want to relate to her. Because that would mean she was on my level and then the whole country would go up in a flame of Chardonnay, and my cat Ellsworth would be on the American flag. Be above me, Hillary, PLEASE. I beg of you. You’re sooooo much smarter than everyone. Flaunt that shit.

She’s shady. Who the fuck isn’t?! Haven’t you ever blown off a friend and been all, “yeah, I’m sick, :::cough, cough:::” and done something else more fun sans friend? I’m TOTALLY guilty of that. Yeah, dude, that’s called being a shade ball. We’ve all had our moments. So don’t throw stones, ya dig?

And politicians are notoriously shady. It’s like in the job description to have confidential convos in dark alleyways in DC. And quite frankly I think House of Cards is playing mind games with us. Even the perfect and lovely Obama family, who I adore. I can’t help but look at them side-eyed and be all, “Michelle and Barack, whatcho REALLY doin’ over there?”

And her husband. Former President Bill Clinton. I’m going to stop you right there. He was a straight up dog. That is correct. But guess what? Come real close because I want you to hear this loud and clear. HE’S NOT RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT. So would his gaggle of skanks from the 90’s please see themselves out?

GOD. :::shakes off rage:::

Nothing makes me more enraged then a misogynistic, privileged, poor excuse for a man, and that doesn’t exclude Donald Trump. I have zero respect for anyone who supports or is willing to vote for a man who…

encourages his followers to scream things like, “kill that cunt!” and “revoke the 19th amendment!” at his rallies.

shames women and calls them liars for sharing that they were sexually assaulted, making it that much harder for them to tell their story and move on from their pain, no matter whom they were assaulted by.

gropes women because he can. Wait, wait, no I’m sorry, I think the exact words were, “grabs them by the pussy.” I don’t even think that is possible. I’m pretty sure you cannot grab at a vagina like you can grab at a pair of balls, Mr. Trump. The anatomy just doesn’t work like that. I believe you were thinking of taas. Yeah. Taas. Kelly Ann Conway, please be sure to put on your to-do list, “explain to Mr. Trump the difference between a vagina and taas.” Kay, thanks.

and comments on the shape, size, and style of a woman in the cruelest of ways. Because as much as he’s tried, no one is willing to help him create the “Ivanka Cookie Cutter Factory” where all women in ze world moving forward will look like his weirdly perfect daughter.

:::Takes a big ol’ deep breath:::

So these are a few reasons why I’m for Hillary Clinton, and why I’m so politically charged right now, for those of you who think it is so out of character for me (which it is, I’m not going to “front” as the kids say).

I wish I could say vote for whomever you want, I really wish I could. But at this stage in the game, if you’re voting for Donald Trump, I’m straight up judging you, and I don’t care who knows it.

I remember going to the Philadelphia Museum of Art when I was a wee lass (we’re talking maybe 4 or 5) and falling in love with the Van Gogh sunflowers. My mom bought me a poster of it in the gift shop when we left, and it was kind of over for me from there. I would spend my days painting paper plates with water colors, and having my family oogle over my “mind blowing”“abstract” creations. I was going to be the next Van Gogh … clearly.

… except not. After insisting my mom buy me a fancy easel, canvases, and paint, I began to realize I had absolutely zero artist ability (can barely pull together stick figs), and was thoroughly bummed out slash infuriated. I believe I even punted one of my failed art pieces. Yep. That’s how I roll.

I thought my love affair with art was over, until I took a random art history class in college. And while my friends were drooling and falling asleep next to me, I was soaking in every slide (yes, my professor used slides). There was this wonderfully nerdy world of art history that I needed to explore.

I ended up minoring in Art History, and still get chills when I think about the lives of legendary contemporary artists. The culture, the fashion, the creativity … it’s all overwhelming to me. In fact, I just watched a documentary on Robert Mapplethorpe and still cannot stop talking about it. Even though every time I try to bring it up to my mom she goes, “Kate, ew … he took pornographic photos.” No he didn’t … but that is neither here nor there.

While I’m a self proclaimed “art nerd” I rarely make it to the glorious museums that I live like 20 minutes away from. It’s shitty … it really is. In fact, I almost let the International Pop exhibit slip through my finger tips (I’m the worst … and SUPER lazy).

The exhibit is thrilling and I’m still swooning thinking about it. I was like a kid meeting her idols for the first time. I mean I was in the presence of Jasper John’s American Flag! It was a fucking really cool moment for me. (See … total dork. I wasn’t kidding).

So if you haven’t, go see this exhibit. Now. Like close your fucking computer and go. Get a little culture. Discover something new. And if you ever want to nerd out about art, you know where to find me, kids.

Here’s a taste of my favorite pieces (even though it was insanely hard to choose)…